Periphery
by onecouldn'tsee
Summary: This is my companion fic for You Don't See Straight. It is NOT a sequel. This is the drabble series I talked about forever ago, focusing on my side original characters.
1. Chapter 1

The swish of the curtain seemed too loud in the quiet room.  
Brennan tugged the chair closer to the bed and sat carefully.  
"You're not in any pain, are you? Your arm?"  
He sounded so sincere Taylor couldn't help but glance to him.  
"I've had worse," he mumbled.  
Much worse really.  
Brennan frowned. He reached out, Taylor flinching.  
Brennan's hand jerked back and he glanced away.  
"I can help," he said quietly. "I don't want you to be in any pain, Taylor. Please."  
"I'm fine."  
Brennan sagged visibly and Taylor felt a slow rise of guilt. He fought against it.  
First of all their meeting had been permanently traumatizing and secondly this nicey nice act would only last so long.  
"So…you didn't…want to leave today?"  
Taylor didn't answer.  
He didn't know what he wanted.  
Part of him wanted to go home but that was ridiculous. Verging on suicidal. He _didn't _want to go home. He was just scared.  
Not so much of what had happened, but more what could happen.  
What _would _happen.  
"Okay," Brennan sighed.  
After another moment he pushed back out of the chair.  
Taylor let himself watch Brennan leave.  
Just for a moment.

…

It was another day before Taylor agreed to actually leave the infirmary.  
Of course he really should have expected that he would be expected to move in with Brennan.  
It was a nice house, bigger than he expected too.  
"So this will be your room," Brennan said, gesturing to an open doorway on the left.  
"Mine?" Taylor questioned sharply, surprised.  
Brennan looked uncomfortable.  
"I can't fully understand your hesitation," he said carefully. "But I recognize that things are different for humans. I would like to make you comfortable."  
Taylor snorted. He was quite suddenly – irrationally – angry.  
"Comfortable?" he demanded, derisive.  
"Yes."  
"How can I be comfortable? How do you even expect me to sleep down the hall from you after what you did?"  
Brennan's eyes widened and he took half a step back.  
There was a painfully long silence.  
"I'll let you get settled in."  
And that was it. He walked away.  
Taylor was left wondering what it even was that he wanted.

…

Lunch was tense.  
Taylor was quite practiced in silences and pretended it didn't bother him.  
Brennan obviously was not the same.  
"Is that really how you feel?" he questioned, eyes locked on his plate.  
Taylor quickly decided to pretend he was obtuse.  
"Is what how I really feel?"  
"That I forced you," Brennan said. His free hand curled on the table top.  
Taylor chewed slowly.  
He didn't owe Brennan anything. He _didn't_. And maybe he wasn't ready to admit anything anyways.  
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, wincing as it twinged his arm.  
Brennan looked down, exhaling sharply.  
"Then I'm sorry," he said. It was a long moment before he looked back up. "I'm sorry," he said more intensely.  
Taylor didn't know how to react, staring at him stupidly.  
"Sorry for claiming me?" he questioned, unable to forget the look in Stiles' eyes when he'd said his mate didn't want him.  
He supposed he should have seen this coming then.  
At least Stiles wasn't damaged goods.  
"No," Brennan said, distracting him. "No I'm not sorry for that. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry you regret it." He seemed to say this last part slowly, careful of the words.  
Regret implied choice Taylor supposed.  
"I don't want you to be scared of me Taylor."  
"You're kinda a werewolf," Taylor protested, laughing once.  
"I know," Brennan said softly, teasing?  
Taylor couldn't be sure.

He went back to eating, just in case.  
It was a few minutes before Brennan spoke again.  
"Can I ask you something?"  
Taylor shrugged.  
"Will you go to the pack meet with me tonight?"  
"Pack meet?"  
Brennan nodded, dimples showing just slightly.  
"It's a party basically. Food, campfire, stuff like that."  
"Like summer camp?" Taylor questioned.  
He was embarrassed immediately, dropping his chin as his cheeks flushed.  
"I guess so," Brennan said, "yeah."  
Taylor took a big bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly again.  
"Did you like summer camp?" Brennan asked.  
Taylor didn't answer, still watching the table top.  
He didn't want to think about that. It'd been so many years ago.  
Not to mention he'd only gone for a weekend sampler, too homesick to go for a whole two weeks.  
But he'd been a child he reminded himself.  
He was allowed.

"Taylor?"  
There was no way he was talking about this.  
"Taylor?" Brennan tried again. "Come on, we were doing so well."  
Taylor focused back on his food.  
"Taylor? Tay? Tay Tay?"  
Taylor shot him a quick glare, surprised when Brennan grinned.  
"At least I know how to get a reaction out of you."  
"If you ever call me Tay Tay again," Taylor threatened, unsure how to finish. "And I don't want to talk about it."  
"Okay. Then _say _that. We'll talk about something else."  
Taylor squinted at him.  
"Just like that?"  
"Yeah," Brennan said easily. "Just like that. We're never gonna get anywhere if you keep shutting me down."  
Taylor wasn't sure that he wanted to get anywhere.  
But at the same time he wasn't in a huge rush to go home.  
"So pack meet?"  
"Yeah…I guess."  
"Okay," Brennan said, "great."

…

Brennan offered to clean up, which was nice really, but it left Taylor feeling unbalanced and restless.  
He drifted back upstairs and into his room, closing the door softly behind him.  
He didn't know how much good it did with a werewolf downstairs but maybe it was more habit than anything else.  
It made him feel better at least.  
Taylor crossed to the bed, nearly twice the size of his back home. It was made up with a striped comforter and blue sheets, half folded back in a way that almost made him want to climb in.  
But he'd spent the past two days in bed.  
Taylor moved to the dresser instead, tugging open one of the drawers with a blank sort of curiosity.  
There were clothes inside.  
Clothes he knew.  
Taylor's eyes were straining wide in disbelief.  
He shoved a hand inside, pushing the fabric up and out of the way.  
Yes, he knew them all.  
His heart was beating out a painful staccato against his ribs.  
_How?  
_This shouldn't be possible. It wasn't – it wasn't possible.  
His stomach turned and contracted until he felt sick with it.

The door opened quietly but Brennan lingered in the doorway, as if unwilling to intrude on this.  
Whatever this was.  
"These are mine," Taylor said.  
"Yes."  
Taylor nearly snarled.  
He needed more than that.  
"Why," he bit out.  
Brennan at least had the decency to look uncomfortable at that.  
"Sometimes it's easier making it look like they ran away. They'd already taken these anyways and I thought it might make you more comfortable so I went and got them for you."  
Taylor wondered if the entire dresser was full.  
They'd brought nearly all his clothes if it was.  
"No one would have looked for me either way," Taylor admitted finally.  
He couldn't bring himself to look at Brennan's reaction.  
"Waste of effort really."  
Brennan was silent.  
"Maybe," he said eventually, "maybe not."  
Taylor closed the drawer slowly, unsure what to say to that.

…

Things between them were weird but it was different with the others.  
The atmosphere was sort of euphoric and Taylor had no idea what to do with so many happy people.  
it was unsettling in a way that he didn't quite mind.  
And it seemed easier to be near Brennan.  
Taylor had no clue why.  
Maybe it had something to do with pack mentality.  
Or maybe he just preferred Brennan over total strangers.  
He didn't know.  
Aubry and Chase joined them, Chase and Brennan jostling each other good naturedly.  
They'd grown up with each other apparently.  
Taylor wondered what it was like to have that kind of friend for a few moments.  
And then Brennan distracted him again.  
The touches were tentative at first, Brennan watching his reactions with an intensity that left Taylor feeling self conscious and off balance.  
By the second hour Brennan was nuzzling his neck before ducking away again. Nearly like a puppy playing.  
Taylor almost expected his face to be licked next.  
It didn't inspire the reaction he thought it should.  
By the time the sun went down Brennan had kissed his cheek twice, making him jump the first time, fed him by hand, and held him by the fire.  
Taylor wasn't sure this was his life.

He was happily warm by the time they went back to Brennan's, letting Brennan tug off his sweatshirt when they got inside.  
He wondered how long he'd been smiling. His cheeks ached faintly at the thought.  
"I might be a little drunk," he realized.  
"A little," Brennan agreed, grinning down at him. He draped Taylor's hoodie over his arm and Taylor hummed a bit at that.  
He couldn't decide if it was thoughtful, patronizing, or presumptuous.  
"Did you need some help, or are you good on your own?"  
"Hm?"  
Brennan pointed towards the stairs.  
"Oh."  
"Have you been drunk before?" Brennan questioned, quietly amused.  
"Pfft. This is not a big deal," Taylor said. "I walked back, didn't I?"  
"That was mostly level," Brennan pointed out.  
"I will be fine," Taylor insisted, waving him off.  
For the first three steps he was. But then he wavered backwards dangerously, mildly surprised to feel firm hands on his back.  
"I've got you," Brennan said. He moved up beside Taylor carefully, looping Taylor's arm over his shoulders.  
They moved up the rest of the stairs slowly and Brennan edged them into Taylor's room.  
He sat Taylor on the edge of his bed.  
"I'll be right back."  
Taylor nodded at that, kicking off his shoes and struggling out of his shirt. He'd managed to open his jeans when Brennan returned, glass of water in hand.  
"Aspirin," Brennan said, offering him two small pills as well.  
"Why do you have aspirin?" Taylor mumbled.  
"Came in my human kit," Brennan said, offering the pills again.  
Taylor wasn't sure if he was kidding, shooting him a quick glare anyways.  
Brennan just laughed at him though.  
"Take these and drink this and I'll let you go to sleep."  
_Seems reasonable_ Taylor mused.  
He held his palm open for the aspirin, tossing them both into his mouth and reaching for the water.  
Brennan took the glass back when he was done, smiling again.  
"Goodnight."  
Taylor hummed again before falling backwards.  
His feet were lifted into bed and the covers were tugged over him, patted down.  
Taylor found himself smiling as the door clicked closed.

There was another cup of water on sitting on the nightstand when he blinked his eyes open.  
Taylor regarded it a while before rolling over and going back to sleep.  
When he woke again there was a persistent ache in his gut that pushed him out of bed.  
It was a few minutes before he made his way down to the kitchen, passing Brennan at the table.  
He glanced up from his laptop, offering a smile.  
"How do you feel?"  
"Sleepy," Taylor admitted. "Time 's it?"  
"Nearly three."  
"Oh," Taylor exhaled, a bit shocked. "Is there food?"  
"I can make toast."  
"Toast."  
"Yeah I can't cook," Brennan admitted, glancing back to the screen and typing something before closing it.  
"I cook," Taylor said, pushing from the chair slowly and moving for the fridge. "What do you have?"  
"Uh," was all Brennan offered before, "I can go get some supplies."  
"You have eggs," Taylor told him, glancing past the open fridge door.  
"And water."  
Taylor sighed.  
"Okay, what can I get you?" Brennan asked, standing.  
Taylor thought a few moments.  
"Well a skillet," he said, "first of all. Cheese, butter, some bell peppers, maybe some mushrooms and onions too."  
"Oh, is that all?"  
"Shouldn't it be in your human kit?"  
Brennan laughed sharply.  
"You're not supposed to remember that."  
"I _told _you I wasn't drunk." He paused. "You didn't have to take care of me."  
"Maybe I wanted to."  
"Yeah okay," Taylor brushed him off.  
Brennan watched him a few seconds.  
"I'll be back."

True to his word Brennan wasn't gone long, coming back with what looked like a reusable shopping bag over his arm.  
The handle of a skillet was sticking out.  
"Perfect," Taylor said, pushing away from the counter to warm the stovetop.  
"I got everything," Brennan said and he sounded smug about it. He set the bag on the counter and began pulling things out. "And my mother wants to meet you."  
Taylor stumbled at that, hand landing awkwardly on the burner.  
He jumped in shock too late, hissing in pain.  
"Fuck! Why is your stove so efficient?" he swore.  
Brennan was there in the next second, grasping his wrist gently.  
The skin was turning pink but Taylor thought it was more shock than anything else.  
The burner really couldn't have been _that _hot.  
"Here," Brennan said, and then Taylor's wrist was flushing with a pleasant heat as black started seeping into Brennan's hand and disappearing. Brennan moved to take his other hand too, avoiding the cast neatly.  
There was more heat and a surprising amount of black.  
"Better?" he questioned quietly.  
"Uh. Yeah," Taylor managed.  
Brennan didn't release him immediately and Taylor could feel himself blushing.  
"What did you just do?"  
"Nifty little werewolf trick," Brennan told him with a flash of teeth.

He gripped Taylor's cast and cracked it three times against the edge of the counter with no warning, breaking the plaster.  
"Hey! Ow!" Taylor protested, even though it didn't really hurt. At all. "What," he managed blankly.  
Brennan released his arm before flexing his own fingers and rolling his wrist.  
"I would have done that earlier but you freaked out."  
"You healed my arm," Taylor said, still unable to process it.  
"I also broke it," Brennan reminded him cheerfully. He cracked the plaster further with his bare hands, easing Taylor's arm out of it. "Can I help with breakfast or did you not want me touching anything?"  
Taylor gaped at him.  
"Out of the kitchen?" Brennan guessed, stepping back.  
Taylor reached out to grab a fistful of his shirt.  
"Hey," he said, "thank you."  
Brennan frowned slightly, head tilting to the left.  
"I'm only trying to take care of you," he said, as if that was just common sense or something.  
Taylor lost control of his body then. He must have – because he pulled Brennan closer and leaned up to kiss him.

It was barely more than a chaste press of lips but Taylor felt warm with it. Dizzy and close.  
He didn't know how to react, couldn't think to.  
"Okay," Brennan breathed out as they parted again, "not that I don't…appreciate that…but you know you don't owe me-right?"  
Taylor blinked up at him, flush slowly seeping back out.  
"Wow, don't make me feel like a whore or anything."  
Brennan's jaw worked soundlessly for a moment.  
"What? That is _not _what I meant-"  
Taylor still wasn't in control of his body, shifting forward and stomping on Brennan's foot.  
There was a bark of disbelieving laughter and then Brennan stared at him before leaning down to grasp his foot.  
Taylor was a bit in shock too.  
Did he really just do that?  
"I was only," Brennan gritted, "saying. You don't owe me. For healing you."  
"I know that," Taylor huffed, pushing at him. "Get off me."  
He was hot with embarrassment now, wanting Brennan to just go. Quietly.  
"You weren't complaining a second ago, when _you _pulled _me _back and kissed _me_."  
"You just healed my broken arm!" Taylor protested, arms crossing over his chest.  
"Ha! You do feel like you owe me," Brennan smiled a split second, still looking pleased when his mouth relaxed.  
"I do not I just – wanted to." He sighed internally. God, that sounded lame.  
Just because Brennan was nice to him?  
Not desperate for attention at all.  
"And now I don't," he said, half reminding himself, making shooing motions with both hands.  
"At least you're still talking," Brennan mused. "That's an improvement."  
"I have a skillet," Taylor reminded him, face still far too hot.  
Brennan was smirking at him again.  
"I'll leave you and your skillet alone then."  
And Taylor was finally alone again, still wondering over his life.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chase  
i_

Chase didn't want to admit it – and he certainly wasn't admitting it out loud – but he was worried. He was worried about Aubrey. He was worried about himself. He was worried about Genevieve. And then by proxy – Aiden.  
Genevieve wasn't just going to let this go. And he used to admire that fire in her.  
But he'd always thought that she understood the way he felt. And he always thought that she was going to wake up and see Aiden right in front of her.  
But here they all were.  
Or more specifically here he, Aiden, and Brennan were, standing by the fire.  
Taylor, Stiles, and Aubrey had left just a few minutes ago and Chase had to force himself to stop listening for their footsteps.  
It was impolite, Aubrey had informed him.  
He was inclined to agree but he was just so…incandescent.

He'd loved her on first sight – had never believed it possible, but how wrong he was.  
He'd loved her before he even knew if she would be selected, if Ross would agree to bring her. And it had probably been wrong of him to hope, selfish even but he couldn't help it.  
He'd hoped for her, deep in the parts of him that he didn't talk about to anyone.  
And there were still so many questions.  
He still hoped for things that he shouldn't. He still wanted things he shouldn't.  
Then again, he thought Aubrey wanted things she shouldn't want too.  
The way she had just- but he caught Genevieve's scent, cutting off his stream of thoughts.  
Chase tensed on instinct, struggling with a wince when Aiden and Brennan echoed him.  
Genevieve would be thrilled by that reaction, no doubt.  
Lifting his beer, he took a cautious sip.  
"She run off already? That was surprisingly fast," Genevieve commented, slipping between Brennan and Aiden seamlessly.  
Aiden shifted away slightly, if Genevieve noticed she did nothing to give it away.  
Chase felt a flash of sympathy and a burst of irritation in rapid succession.  
What did she think she was playing at?  
"What do you want Evie?"  
She only smirked at Aiden's wounded tone and Chase had to suppress a burst of anger.  
This was why they'd never really been friends he thought, she just had to needle and needle until something blew up.  
It never mattered what that something was either.

"I don't _want _anything."  
A lie if they'd ever heard one.  
"I'm just here for the party. Isn't everyone having fun?"  
Brennan arched a brow and Chase could all but hear his internal comments.  
He nearly smirked himself.  
"I mean look at the two of you…all mated…to humans," she said, the words deliberately slow. "Aiden and I are the only bachelors left I guess." She added this with a slight pout, head cocking towards his shoulder.  
Chase winced purely on Aiden's behalf.  
"Maybe you should move on Gen."  
Her eyes flashed and it was only then that Chase realized the double meaning.  
He'd opened his mouth to say something, perhaps some sort of retraction, but it was too late he knew.  
"Maybe _you _should," she said, jaw clenched.  
He forced himself not to roll his eyes.  
"I meant from the three of us. Right now."  
That earned a snarl.  
Chase's fingers tightened on the label of the bottle in his hand.  
"Do you really need me to say it out loud then?"  
He waited just a smattering of seconds before continuing.  
"I don't feel that way about you," he said, "I never have. I never will. I would hardly even consider us _friends_. And your behavior now – towards my mate – is reprehensible."  
There was silence around them, if there had been any doubt of people listening in, it was gone.  
"I wouldn't have minded," Genevieve began, elongated teeth gleaming between her dark lips, "I wouldn't have minded if she was at least _pretty_. But that _cow _of a girl isn't worth a space in our pack let alone your _time _and how she ever got you to-"  
Chase lunged, vision tinged red as he utterly lost control.  
It was disorienting when Aiden yanked him back by the elbow and Chase lashed out without thinking, a snarl breaking his lips.  
It was a collision of teeth and skin, bones grinding but over quickly.  
Somewhere in a crevice of Chase's mind thought resumed.  
This was Aiden. One of his best friends.  
He hauled himself back, yanking a hand through his hair and gritting his teeth until they were flat again.  
His chest was aching with the effort to breathe by the time he was human again.  
It was only then that he realized he tasted blood.

"Okay?"  
Aiden grimaced but nodded once.  
Chase's relief was short lived.  
Predictably, Genevieve was nowhere to be seen.  
The silence around them was broken up as people began shifting again, Aubrey, Stiles, and Taylor moving through the gap created.  
"What happened?" Aubrey snapped.  
Chase inhaled slow, letting himself relax.  
"Nothing, we're fine."  
Okay, _we're _was relative.  
"Don't try and sell me that line of shit Chase."  
But he nearly smiled.  
There she was, tough in a way that Genevieve could never be.  
A hard edge curled around the way that she cared.  
The way that she cared for him?  
It was harder not to smile.  
He moved towards her, skin singing out to be against hers.  
"We're fine." He let his fingers curl over her shoulders, regretful of the denim jacket she wore. "Tempers flared and we had a little fight but now we're fine."  
But Aubrey wasn't just going to take that either.  
"Why are you fighting your friends?"  
"I lost my temper," he said, softer and with a tiny smile. "I told you."  
"That's not like you," she told him, eyes narrowed.  
No, it wasn't.  
But she brought out things in him that he hadn't known existed.  
Aubrey arched a brow and pursed her lips, evidently waiting for his response.  
"It could be like me," he offered, "you've only known me a couple days."

She didn't respond for a few seconds.  
"Don't treat me like I'm stupid Chase," she finally said with a little huff.  
His hands dropped away and he stood a bit straighter.  
"I would not," he informed her.  
She arched that damned eyebrow again.  
"Everyone knows exactly who's causing trouble here and why you and Aiden, of all people, would be fighting."  
Chase couldn't help a quick pout.  
Damn all these werewolves and their penchant for gossip.  
He made a quick effort to fix his hair before sighing quietly.  
"Well people will just have to adjust."  
It was simple to say it like that, even though it shouldn't be.  
Because firstly, people didn't have to adjust.  
And secondly, that was assuming that things were just going to fit together and Aubrey was going to stay with him. That she was going to want to stay.  
But he supposed he could hope.

_A/N: okay so hi :)_

_I assume you guys have noticed I started adding a header at the beginning, this will be the character POV we're in followed by either i or ii.  
i is before Stiles and Derek officially get together.  
ii is after._

_Now by no means is this like exact. It's a general timestamp.  
I'm still trying to NOT stress myself out with this fic._

_anyways, thanks so much for reading!_


End file.
